The Blood Claim Part Two: The Alpha's Rise (Being Edited!)
by The One True Queen
Summary: My name is Stella Stillinski, and I am the Alpha Female of the Hales. I have been Claimed- by none other than an Alpha- The Alpha. We are connected, by Blood, by Moon. He will stop at nothing to have me now that I have seen him: he will stalk his prey until the Full Moon gives way to the Rise of the Alpha- My Alpha. Peter is coming back. Soon. For good. I can feel it...
1. Old Wounds (Part Two)

Chapter Four: Old Wounds (Part One)

_The Stillinski House, That Same Day_

Lydia sat watching me as I moved slowly about the kitchen; in order to let my new bandages stay where they were, I couldn't make any sudden movements or move too quickly. Her face a mask of worry and curiosity. As I took my time in gathering ingredients for a Stillinski Special Provolone Tuna Melt, she tracked my every move: just like someone else I know. I let her be, however, because Lydia was playing nice for now; she wasn't hounding me—which I was grateful for—but she was just there, mainly for comfort. I was just sick and tired of people watching me all damn day.

"Did you want one, too?" I asked her as I checked everything on the island. I thought it would be rude if I just made one for myself.

"One? All of this goes into _one_ sandwich?" Lydia's brows rose into her hairline.

"Two, give or take four or five."

"Five?!"

"Lydia, you seem to have forgotten the fact that I love to eat."

"But how do you stay so small?"

"Is that a trick question? Honey, I'm a werewolf," I scoffed. "We live to eat."

"Oh, you're right about that. Scott seemed pretty hungry back there at school." Lydia said pointedly.

I paused then, and she waited as if I was going to give an answer to that statement. I blinked and turned away, hoping she would let it drop as she had in the hallway. I grabbed some instant coffee as she remained silent; it turned into a Battle of Wills to see who would outlast the other in staying silent.

Too bad we Stillinskis loved to talk.

"Fine. I'll tell you." I murmured with a heavy sigh. "But only because I need someone else's opinion other than Stiles'!" Stiles was a great listener, but when it came to giving advice… he was better at concocting impromptu plans that somehow worked most of the time. Plus, my other genetic half had a way of saying the wrong things at the wrong time. _Like he had at the burnt-out Hale House…_

"See? I'll never have to work a day in my life. You all make being this good so easy that I just might start to feel bad."

I shook my head and boiled some water in the microwave for my coffee.

"And I can't believe you told Stiles before you told me!" she scoffed.

"We're twins, Lydia. We tell each other everything."

I left it at that and assembled my Tuna Melts while I waited for the water. Several times Lydia attempted to help, but I waved her off and told her that she needed to mentally prepare herself for what I was about to say. That quieted her down long enough to let me pour the instant powder, milk, creamer, and sugar into my coffee mug and settle down onto the island next to her. After a few more peaceful, silent moments, we got down to business.

"Do you remember that night when P- the, uhm, Alpha, I mean, locked us inside of the school?" I couldn't even say his name, he scared me so much.

"It's a little too hard to forget, seeing as it's ingrained into my brain lobes, sure. I'm guessing you're going to tell me that he was the one who gave you those?" she pointed to my stomach, and I shuddered, nodding.

"I thought I was going to die that night, on the floor in front of the trophy case, but I didn't. I was saved—by someone. I just don't know who yet."

"But you plan to find out?" I nodded.

"Exactly. But that isn't what I wanted to say…."

Lydia remained silent, and I took another deep breathe to start over. "Two nights ago we all came looking for you, but we couldn't find you. After we came home, I fell asleep at the window—and when I woke up, there was someone in my bedroom... Watching me."

I stared into the half-empty mug as the oven beeped and told me my melts were done.

"Keep going," my friend coaxed, her voice even and reassuring.

"It was a boy, and I have no idea how he got into my room and I have no idea who-" I frowned hard, and corrected myself. "I know who he is, but he was there."

Lydia sat back down next to me after she cut the stove off and set the steaming, oozing sandwiches on top of the stove. The smell made my mouth water, and now, all I wanted to do was to devour them all. Anything to keep me from embarrassing myself further when it came to the other night.

"It was storming, and the lightening cut off the power. It didn't matter though, because I could still see him."

"Mr. Tall, Sinister, and Handsome in the parking lot," she guessed.

I nodded. "He was standing in the corner and the only thing he was wearing were black boxers. I didn't know what to do, but…"

"You wanted him. Bad." There was an amusement in her voice that I didn't miss.

"Okay, are you somehow reading my mind? You're freaking me the hell out."

"Sorry, but I don't mean to do it. It come and goes; right now, it's come and it hasn't gone. I was also paying attention to your reaction, earlier."

I blushed and looked away, embarrassed as Lydia added, "You looked like a dog in heat, girlfriend. In deep, deep heat, and nothing would have stopped you from going down there if he hadn't made you turn into mush."

My face was beginning to hurt, and Lydia, sensing my discomfort, squeezed my shoulder. "I'm not teasing, I'm just saying. Now tell me more, Stella."

"Well, I needed him. I _want_ him—I felt like I needed him more than I needed to breathe, and he needed me, too. I didn't even ask his name, but I told him to kiss me, and-" I shook my head, amazed that something that felt so perfect and right turned into something so hideous and wrong.

"The rest is rated M for Mature, right under AC for Adult Content and AV for Adult Violence, Lydia."

"He hurt you, didn't he?" she picked up right away, and the buds of warmth that were reaching out into my body turned into ice.

My breathing hitched, and my hand rested gingerly over my scars. "It was him," I whispered. "The Alpha from that night. His name is Peter."

"Peter _Hale__?_" Lydia gaped, her green eyes wide and round as I nodded and took a shaky breathe.

"I couldn't move—he had my wrists pinned over my head, and I couldn't stop him. He likes to play games, Lydia. The bastard made me guess what his name was before he reopened my scars with his bare claws."

"Oh, my god, Stella…"

I took another shaky breathe and tried to force the air back into my lungs, but it was no use. I was crying again, and I wouldn't stop for a while.

"I couldn't stop screaming, Lydia. I just couldn't because it was the only thing I could do to make sure I wasn't dying. You should have seen the look on Stiles and Dad's faces when they came into the room."

My trembling hand set my mug down on the granite; I didn't even look at the melts. My appetite was ruined. I could tell Lydia was watching me more closely from the corner of my eye, and I shuddered.

"Am I disgusting?" I asked her, and she frowned.

"What?"

"Am I disgusting? For wanting him—Peter –again?" I asked desperately as I looked into her face.

"Of course not, or at least I don't think so, honestly." Lydia wrapped her arms around me and hugged as tight as she could without jarring my bandages. She was second person who let me cry into their shirt today.

"God, I wanted him so bad…"

* * *

_Some Hours Later_

Lydia put me down for a nap after I ruined her favorite shirt; when I woke up, she was asleep, and all I could think about were my Tuna Melts. I got up, still groggy, and padded downstairs to eat. I used a paper towel to wrap up a Melt to-go, and grabbed my mug from the counter to refill yet again with more coffee. I didn't even turn a full circle before a searing pain slammed into my gut, immobilizing me. I sucked in air as if I were drowning and still couldn't get enough of it. It slammed into me again, knocking me onto my knees. There wasn't a sound emitted from my throat as the pain surged throughout my whole body.

The contents of my coffee mug washed the floor as it shattered on the hardwood panels and spread. One my one, my scars began to burn, starting with the one farthest from my heart and reaching inward. I struggled to drag air into my lungs as my vision blurred. I opened my lips to cry for Lydia's help, but the noise died in my throat as a wolf's howl rang loud and clear in the late afternoon air.

"Stella?" Lydia's voice was drowning itself in confusion and concern as she called my name. "Was that a wolf?"

I tried to speak, but the only sound that came was a mew; it felt as if my stomach were caving in on itself. I dry heaved, trying to force anything and everything out—as if there were something in there, anyway. I moaned as my palms pressed into the floor and my knees ground in. I could smell my own blood infiltrating my nose and molesting my olfactory bulb, a thick copper-metallic scent that threatened to choke me faster than if I bled out here on the floor.

_Plip!_ The blood rushed to my head and ran through my nose, dark and red. I looked down as an annoying buzzing sound irritated my eardrums while I watched my blood mix together with my coffee. I reached a trembling hand to my face as it began to burn from the tip of my nose all the way to the back of my head. More blood found its way out side of my nose, warm and wet as my dry throat spasmed—it stopped Lydia dead cold in her tracks.

"St-_ohmygod_!" she gasped. By the sudden spike I could hear in her heartbeat, she was horrified.

I looked up and made an incoherent sound—anything that would tell her I _needed_ her help. More of an afterthought, I suddenly wondered about what I'd need to inhale later in order to get my iron levels back up. I reached for her with my bloody, shaking hand; my bottom lip began to quiver with the onset of tears. It was hard to fight off the shuddering that had conquered the trembling as the temperature dropped in the room—or rather inside of my body. My throat worked hard as she knelt before me, looking utterly hopeless, useless, and not to mention still confused.

"Help…me…" I moaned, my arm shaking from holding my weight. My mouth opened wide in a silent scream as the pain arching my back forced me to land on the floor face up, tears streaming down my face. Oh, Peter Hale and I would _damn sure_ have some fighting words...

"Towels! I'll go and get some towels!" The strawberry blonde cried as I took a painful breath. "Stella, just hold on― I'll be right back!" Lydia's voice was quivering itself and her rapid heartbeat now went into overdrive as she bounded away from me like a gazelle from a lioness.

_"__Stella__!"_

I could only take another breathe before I was finally able to let loose a gut-wrenching wail that should have shattered even my eardrums. My back arched painfully again, and Peter Hale crashed threw the back kitchen door. The agonizing pain subsided in the wake of a gust he had brought inside with him and my heart sank like a stone into my stomach—which only made it shrivel up and dissolve in its own acid.

I didn't want him any where near me, but something told me that he was only person who could help me survive whatever in the hell this was. And yet somehow, I felt as though he was completely and utterly responsible for it.

* * *

End of Part One: The Alpha's Right


	2. A Reprieve

The Blood Claim

~ A _Teen Wolf_ Fan fiction ~

_**If you could all please do me favor, that'd be great; I'm nowhere near done writing Chapter six, so I'd like you guys to help me. I can't exactly say where I'm going with this, but I'd people from the show. Could you guys give me some ideas on what/who to write in for Chapters Six and Seven. Now, make your ideas a little complex and intriguing, if you can. Oh, and to answer your question, Lycan Lover 411? I have no rational clue, Haha. Sorry if that's a sucky answer, but it's the truth. Maybe I can come with something, or maybe you can? ^^ Oh and sorry if this chapter is a little weird and super short!**_

Chapter Five: The Aftermath

_**Over the next couple of hours….**_

The next few hours were a blur; Heavy breathing, loud moans, harsh groans, and soft screams littered the air.

Let's just say I wasn't the only one who felt _**damn**_ good and sated that night when it was over. I was still about as high as a kite by the time Derek and Isaac left― or so Lydia informed me; I wasn't in the state of mind to comprehend very much. She wouldn't tell me what had gone down, either, but between her massive blush, the storm of shredded clothing around the kitchen that looked familiarly like mine, Isaac's, and Derek's, _**and**_ my dad's broken cuffs?

One could only conclude…

Moreover, I can't even hold down a blush at the soreness usually associated with a good amount of that pulsing in between my legs.

"Stella, honey, go and take a shower. For three hours. Just go," Lydia commanded, pulling me upstairs gingerly.

"You'll take two baths and three shower― in fact, I'll wash you mysel―"

"Lydia! Hell n―"

_**"Shower. Now."**_

_**Sometime later, Stiles comes home to a wrecked kitchen and broken back door.**_

_**"Stella? Lydia?" **_Stiles' scream terrified me into waking up in my bed, pulling out of Lydia's arms. (Yeah, we were spooning. Lydia only agreed because I was cold as hell and love to cuddle. Do not judge me, but it might be a *sigh* "dog" thing.)

_**"Oh my god― Stella!" **_Stiles' scream of terror catapulted me out of bed and I was down the stairs in under five. Seconds.

_**"Stell―"**_

"Stiles!" I cut him off with a scream of my own. His heartbeat was racing as I bounded into the kitchen.

"Stiles, whatisit?" I exclaimed in a rush, wondering why my big brother was bawling on the floor.

In front of the refrigerator.

In a mess of coffee (that what was in my mug) and blood.

Particularly, _**my**_ blood.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, as he looked up at me, doe-eyed. Lydia was finally at my back, and I heard her curse. From the red handprints giving Stiles a pale look, my blood was _**literally**_ on my brother's hands. Stiles' throat worked, and I felt horrible_**― **_the kitchen was still a wreck; I had been too out of it to do anything except what Lydia had ordered, and then we had gone straight to bed.

_**"Stella."**_

Stiles looked so relived, the blood flooded to his face, giving him a feverish look. He ducked it head then, and began to shake. At first, I thought Stiles was laughing; but when he took a huge breathe and looked back up at me; I saw that tears streamed down his face. Moreover, the look he gave me made my heart ache even more than it had last night.

"Genim," I whispered, dropping to my knees. I wrapped my arms around him and he held me tightly_**― **_he squeezed until it hurt to breathe, but I did not complain because I knew I owed him big time for this. Even if it was a completely scary, rather odd misunderstanding.

_**A lot later, when Dad comes home after a late shift.**_

Genim (I'd resolved to call him that fondly and only when we were alone together; besides my being the only one other than Dad able to pronounce the name) had one pizza under his belt.

I had three.

But as soon as Dad came in through the front door (my brother was getting annoyed at my anticipatory bouncing on the couch) we jumped up and rushed him.

"Whoa! Uh, I love you two," he said awkwardly, "but what do you want?"

Stiles and I threw our arms into the air and scoffed.

"Fine!"

"Cheezus!"

"Be that way!"

"We don't anything!"

"Not from you!"

"N_**―**_"

"I want something from you two, though," Dad cut off our tirade; Stiles paled while I blushed. Shit. We're done.

Dad pinned us to the couch with that famous Stilinski Stare (that seemed to run only thought the male line. Mine was more like a glare, or so I'd been told). I stiffened next to Stiles, abruptly uncomfortable and agitated.

"Pizza."

Stiles and I lifted opposite brows simultaneously.

"Saywhat?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pizza, kids," Dad chuckled. "Did you save some for me?"

Stiles and I gave each other a sideways glanced before we laughed, secretly with relief. "Oooohhh!"

"Uhm, yeah. Move it, goofs!" he laughed, stepping over the coffee table to steal the remote from me and plop down in between us.


	3. Instigator

The Blood Claim

~ A _Teen Wolf_ Fan fiction ~

Chapter Six: Moods Swings, Much?

_**The next day, during Lunch.**_

"Damn it!" I growled underneath my breathe. _**"This. Is. Not. Happening!"**_

__"What is it, Stells?" Stiles asked before stuffing his face with the PB 'n J I made him.

"Brody was PMS-ing, and my scars are sore as hell; everyone knows two bitches with attitude problems stuck in the same room for an hour and a half do. Not. Cooperate!"

Erica's scent of Tansy caught up with me just before she spoke, and I groaned inwardly.

"Well, well, _**well**_." (Enter here the little maniac giggle she recently grew accustomed to vocalizing) "If it isn't Little Miss Al―"

"Be quiet." I ordered.

I had been having a rather-sorta-kinda-not-really-as-great-as-I-wanted-it-to-be-complaint-filled Lunch with Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Scott; but as soon as I smelled Erica, I knew my day was about to get worse. Erica giggled that damn giggle again, annoying me further.

"I could smell you on them―__when they came home to_** me **_last night," she said deliberately, and I staunched the image of me ripping out her throat in front of innocent High Schoolers. That would be too traumatic, as well as dramatic, and that was something I could not afford right now. Not today, anyway. Tomorrow was a different day, however…

"I know how you feel about him; being near him must get you going, am I right?" Erica just would not shut up, and the blood rushing to my face was the trigger for yet another headache.

I saw Lydia's expression form the corner of my eye, but took pains to ignore it.

"When they came home, Derek trained us. _**Hard**_. I even let him put me into a rather compromising position. I can see it now: the way he had me on my stomach, pressing my body into the floor with his own."

I happened to glance at Scott― he froze, locking eyes with me ―as Erica boxed me in at the table, a hand on either side of me. I blinked then, hesitating before I grinned; I wondered if what I was going to do (once she got close enough) would throw her.

"Oh, no" I caught Stiles whisper as he caught my grin.

"Oh,_** yes**_," I whispered as I made myself sound breathless.

Erica paused, and I knew she frowned slightly. As I thought she would, she leaned over my shoulder to actually gauge my expression for her own eyes, but tensed when my gaze met hers unflinchingly. She frowned (as best she could) harder.

"What'd you come over here for, hm? To make me jealous? Of you, right?" my words kept getting softer, and I could plainly hear Erica's heartbeat skip. I felt the entire table staring at me, but I kept my eyes on Erica.

"Uh, Stella―"

"You came over here to get my attention. Nod yes." I practically gave her a breathy moan, and she blushed in turn. She nodded.

"And? What else?"

"St―"

"To make you jealous," she murmured, her eyes flickering before being pulled down to my lips. "Sweet Honey…" she said under her breathe.

"Of. Who." I said slowly, taking my tie to enunciate.

"Stella, I think― _**oh shit**_," Lydia cursed, staring over my shoulder. Stiles cracked his knuckles, Allison looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Scott just….kept his eyes on my face. Isaac's scent washed over me yet again, and I groaned softly. Lydia cursed again.

"St-Stella," Isaac stuttered, leaning down on my other side.

"Oh, hi, sweetie," I cooed, smiling sweetly at him. He leaned closer, grinning wickedly yet adorably, and Erica gave a slight whimper.

"Nope; hands off," Stiles pushed at a dazed Erica and slapped Isaac's hand from my cheek. I looked away from Isaac as he leaned in and kissed me below the ear. I jumped, blushing even more.

"Remember what we did last night?" he whispered into my ear, and I shuddered as his breathe tickled me.

"Remember how good we felt?" his whisper was broken. Damn.

Just staring into those molten golden pools he claimed were eyes did me in― something inside me snapped then. I think it was my control; I grabbed Isaac's face with both hands and crushed his lips to mine. A slightly uproar came from the rest of the table, but they were ignored yet again. Sadly, the sensation I was beginning to love lasted for about five more seconds as Isaac's lips were ripped from mine, his face form my grasp; me from him. My world spun, as Stiles yanked me up from the table, and light backed away in my peripheral as my face was buried into his chest.

"Back the hell off― both of you!" my brother's shout reverberated throughout the cafeteria, and the noise-level dropped to zero. I turned, putting my cheek to his chest and looked around; Boyd had stood, and so had Jackson, Danny, Matt, Cody, Brian, and other Lacrosse Players scattered around the cafeteria. Scott stood, but still kept his eyes on me.

"Is there a problem?" Jackson (surprisingly) asked, flooding his arms across his chest and frowning between me Stiles, Isaac, and Erica. Danny whispered something to him, and he frowned harder. I hung on tightly to Stiles' waist; my nails dung into him, and he jerked.

"S-sorry," I muttered with a tremble, realizing I might not actually know what the hell had just happened at the table.

Isaac groaned low enough in his throat for the wolves in the room to no doubt hear, but everyone else stared and waited in anticipation.

"No," the four of us said in unison.

"Lunch is over, Stella. Let's go." Hushed voices took wing and the Rumor Mill no doubt started turning as Stiles held me tightly to his side and walked briskly from the cafeteria.

_**Moments and a flight of stairs later…**_

"What the hell was _**that**_?" Stiles shouted at me as he snatched me into the library.

Several shushes came our way, but a glare from my brother silenced even the would-be silencers.

"Okay, so I get that you and Erica have a she-wolf rivalry thing going on, but what the hell were you doing? Moreover, what in God's name was that crap with Isaac― a Reprise of the Kitchen Catastrophe? ―oh, and I caught Scott's look, too! Stella, you need to come clean with what happened! All I got was what you gave me: blood on my hands and being freaked the hell out!"

Stiles paused then, and I waited, albeit impatiently, or him to finish. Then I would let him have it; my scars were stinging, and I was getting pissy again.

"I told you I would be fine not knowing what happened until you told me, but I lied: I need to know― now! I can take this secretive crap from Scott; but not you. You don't have the right to keep a damn thing from me― so your little ass better start talking, right this second, or else―"

Stile's tirade made something in me snap (I can only take being yelled at for so long), and anger flooded my vision. _**Where in the hell**_ did he get off shouting at me like that?

"Or else what, Stiles?!" I exploded. "Or else what? What are you gonna do, Stiles, huh?" I growled menacingly, glaring. He frowned at me, and spread his arms as though in surrender. A hint of wariness came off of him, and I pushed.

Lashed out and pushed him hard into book shelf, that is. I was suddenly angry, and seriously didn't feel like taking crap from him anymore.

"Stella, what the hell―"

"Shut. Up. I am bigger, badder, better and bitchier, Big Brother," I snarled.

"Stells, listen―"

"I said shut up!" I was suddenly crouched in front of him, all of in his face. "I get it, now: you're jealous! You'll never be anything other than the pathetic, weak, sad little side-kick whose main job is to provide comic relief that you've always been!"

Stile's mistake right then was pushing me back into the book shelf across the aisle. We both stilled, realizing what he'd done; he regretting, me rejoicing. Stiles had never put his hands on me that way in either of our lives, and to do so now, even in self defense, was wrong. At least, in his mind; mine, on the other hand?

Well, at least I regretted what happened next…

"Stella! Ohmygod, I'm sorry! I didn't―" he scrambled to his feet and tried to apologize, but I wouldn't hear any of it.

Stiles screamed as blood abruptly spurted from his now broken nose, and I gave him another punch in his gut. I watched tears come into his brown eyes, and he slumped back to the ground, gasping for air as I (in some more poorly-judge courses of action) simply ran from the Library.


End file.
